Year 757 Gesparg Void

This day is exceptionally warm despite the winter month is just around the corner. Manuk’s circular throne sinks to the watery horizon of the Angoran Sea. The light makes the surface of the sea shimmer like the glittery trail that is usually up on the sky during night. Chemuk’s winds hardly made black flags of the Nightmare Maiden dance. Even the ship is still, as calm as the sea just as if the ship is asleep. It might as well be since her sails are rolled, there are no sign that any of the sailors are even on it. Her deck is very empty, an invitation for a certain teenager to loiter on. The teen took refuge by the helms deck, sulking with all the possible angst one boy can muster. Besides, he had every reason, a new bruise darkens the skin on his tan skin on his face is the reason. Short brown hair messy from what looks like from an altercation. Copper to brown irises glare at the horizon. His clothes are baggie on him, clothes that must gave been handed down to him. Blue blouse with a rope wrapping around his waist to keep his pants from falling. Even if he had some roundness on his features to show his youth, he is tall and had no trouble looking over the railing of this ship. He is so close to being a full adult but right now even the adults here treat him like he is still that boy that washed up near the crew many moons. Like any average teenager, this one is very frustrated.

“Connor.” This voice calls but the teenager did not even move to acknowledge. The voice got closer and curt,” There you are. You really got to stop fighting with Alex.” Young Connor let out an agitated ‘hmph’ that even Manuk can hear it from his fiery throne. This response had this individual saunter right over to Connor. A man that is much older; he looks to be around his thirty years of living. Long brown hair twisted into this long braid. Holding it all together is this one red ribbon at the end, his coat is darker shade of red, and it fits loose in his rather slim frame. His blouse is white with golden buttons, brown pants, and steel toed boot. The ironic smile on his face did not hide the annoyance. His whole slim body shows all the annoyance. Connor still didn’t move even if he recognizes this man to be the very captain on this ship; Roland of the Isles.

“Connor…you can’t just-“ This captain cuts himself off, forcing one sigh. Roland composes himself to say the rest, “Stop fighting with your brother.”

“He….is…NOT my brother.” Finally, Connor did speak, the idea that Alex is still perceived as his brother stokes the storm in him. He snaps his glare towards Roland, “STOP.making.me.work with.him.”

There is no reaction from Roland at first. He just stares right back; Connor is nearly as tall as him. The teenager can recall the time he had to look up a lot as he was growing. Still, something about Roland’s presence always had him back down. Like right now, he shifts his glare away which breaks this stare off.

"Can…. I tell you a memory or are you too mad to listen?” The captain had no fear towards the boy, already leaning onto the railing and picking at a paint chip on it. Connor opens his mouth to spit another verbal comeback, but this captain cuts him off.

“Too bad…you are going to listen.” Roland’s tone shows he isn’t going to change his mind. So, Connor slumps and leans on the railing too just to listen. “You see. I once had a brother, not full blooded but he might’ve as well been. We were always inseparable, that’s why even my new parents named me Roland while his name is Nolan.”

Weird names….

“No need to look at me like that. They just thought it sounds similar like some twins might have similar spellings. Okay, moving on! Nolan and I were like twins but unique features of course. They really got tired of yelling our names so they would call us OLAN’s. Not the most original nicknames but it worked. Anyways, we were….” Roland face changes now, and a sad smile plagues it. There is so much in this moment, as if he is hiding something with the way he picks at the paint more. Connor will be too mad to pressure this man into sharing more. That isn’t the only reason. Roland hardly shares any details about his past; this is as rare as blue dust and Roland is so secretive. Roland clears his throat to continue.

“We started to act differently when we got older. Nolan was always so open with people while I kept a good distance. I was very content alone and trained my knowledge in alchemy. I used to get REALLY annoyed when he thought it was a great idea to bring his friends over…to MY ROOM. Let’s just say we fought a lot. Enough to piss off our parents to send us to an academy. This is an unfamiliar environment and my brother struggled with the adjustment to the point his grades suffered too. I used to think he would do it to get attention, but he really did curl up in one corner of the room like an injured animal. That’s when I finally grew out of this strange pettiness and kept him company till his episodes stopped.”

“If you are trying to have me…make up with Alex, you are out of luck.” Connor said it with a grumble at the end to express his reluctance.

“Hah, you will whether you want to or not.” Roland smile and laugh vanishes right after. “I have many regrets and one of those is letting my brother go.”

“Go where….?” The curiosity got the better of Connor. The teenager hates to admit it, but he is invested in this memory. Roland seems to always be able to break through Connor’s sulking. The silence is damning, and full of more secrets beneath this captain’s body language. Eventually, the captain breaks that silence while his gaze now points way above them.

“I…never got to find out where he ended up going. We had to… keep it that way. I missed out on making more memories with him. That’s why you’ll forgive your brother. You don’t want to be like me.” Captain Roland lowers his head while grinning with so much warmth in it. He pats Connor on the shoulder, which would’ve had the teenager brush off other times but not this time. “Besides, you really are a brute-! Especially when you challenged Alex, he threw that chair at you because you would have crushed him with that strength of yours.”

“Of course you are on his side.” Connor groans with an eye roll.

“Connor. You would have CRUSHED him. He just did what he needed to survive.” Roland chuckles even if this very misplaced. “You know you have that scary strength of a giant.”

Connor wrinkles his nose, but his master isn’t entirely wrong. Connor isn’t confidence about this strange strength, once he started to get tall, he started to move stuff he couldn’t before and not normal things either. This strength is a sign of something worse; it proves his heritage. With a grit of his teeth, he tries to ignore the memories. The teenager hisses through it, “Okay. But I am not sorry. He did mess up my project.”

Roland smiles didn’t leave this time; it is a better expression than that strange sadness. “How about you start with helping him clean up the foam….?”

“That is no suggestion….” Connor can see through that grin, Roland is never forgetful about these things.

“Correct. It’s an order.” Roland said this so chipper that it made Connor a bit anxious, that’s the tone of a man that will make the days to come hard if Connor disobeys. And Connor respects this man too much to rebel, after all he views him like a father more than his real one.

“Aye, aye.”

Year 760 Gesparg Fall

Three years pass what it is almost a blink of an eye. The day is dreary and cold, anyone who stood outside will be shivering because of the rain and brisk winds. The skies are blanketed by dark storm clouds, lightning stretch along the clouds as thunder rumbles its song. This thunderstorm promises to remain, and it only helps make this day feel even more hopeless.

Three years, the teenager has grown to be this young man with longer brown hair that goes past his earlobe in length. He usually brushes it aside but not this time. The locks often cover his eyes, but he didn’t move it. It didn’t matter.

This Connor wore a dark red coat that resembles a lot like the one Master Roland worn. But it did belong to Master Roland, even the stitching is the same. This coat sits on him like a heavy blanket, his shoulders slouches from the feeling of loss draining his motivation to stand straight. The light brown blouse is gaping from the neckline and show his chest, and it is too baggy to hide this bloody bandage wrap from his shoulder all the way to his right armpit. He also had bandages around his left bicep. He just got two fresh injuries, a bullet hole on his left collarbone and a long slash on the curve of his shoulder. Injuries that might make a normal man keel in pain but not Connor. He hardly budges at the helms-deck of the Nightmare Maiden staring at the horizon while she sways with the waves. It is anchored to the same pier, the very same one he had this conversation about brotherhood with Roland years ago. How these bonds transcend blood or pride.

He lied. If that is true, then he won’t be here fighting down the anger that also wets his eyes. He clenches the railing hard, feeling that slight give to it when his grip is too tight. Remembering to be careful with that cursed strength of his. However, he found it pointless too. It is not like he needs to obey his master, because he died from the blade of arcane wizards. There is no more fatherly reprimand or the excitement of the next new experiment. Roland’s laugh is no more. All lively behaviors of Roland are gone, even when the thunder roars it still feels too quiet for Connor. He felt like Anukrin filling his ears with water. Connor had spent days, staring at the same horizon that they sent Roland’s body. He’s….gone.

The reality of Roland’s death sets in again, it had him closing his eyes hoping that will stop this claustrophobic guilt. His mental mansion had no chance against this guilt. Rain taps his body, causing his hair to sink. Even so, he remains put because he didn’t deserve the comfort of shelter. For a while there is no one else to stop him. But that period of brooding alone ends.

“Connor…” This is not the voice that Connor wants to hear. He whips his head toward the owner. Another man, roughly ten years older, with long hair that reaches halfway on his back. The dark locks had stripes of blond in it. This man is dark-skinned that some might mistake him as Krax but a few giant differences are those near orange irises and strange tattoos of a dot below each eye. A maroon captain’s hat sat on his head, that looks just like the one Roland used to wear. Because it is. The forlorn look on his face just ignites the storms within Connor just as intense as the real storm before them. “I am…. sorry.”

That had Connor snap, there is no stopping this anger. “You! SORRY? I didn’t think you were capable after you left us, Alexious….”

“I…had not seen those wizards when I left, Connor.”  This man grimaces, then he held his head high with this newfound conviction that only pisses Connor off. “You know I would’ve stayed if I had any clue.”

“Hmph, clueless and useless is a risky combination. He might’ve not died that day. BUT your uselessness got in the fucking way.” He stomps over to Alex, slowing to a stop when Alex didn’t react to the intimidation. Neither are shorter than the other, so their eyes did lock and all Connor wants to do is get rid of him as soon as possible.

“I know…I blame his death on me too. I am every bit regretful. He…was our fath-“

“NO! You don’t get to call him that!” Connor cuts Alex from finishing that sentence. Alex brows furrows shaping the same way as that frown he has; to see him look this lost and hurt is rare and it would have slowed Connor down in the past since Alex’s feelings did matter to him then. Not anymore.  “Get off my ship. I don’t want to see your face again, admiral.”

“As you wish….captain.” Alex expression didn’t change just his tone, within the sounds are flavors of pain but Alex had always been good at recovery. Much better than Connor, Alex held his head high still while he turns to leave. The thunders roars silence those steps and down came more rain. Connor watches the man that used to be his brother leave the ship, until rain made it difficult too. Brown hair now sticks to Connor’s tan skin, and he should go back but he is still again. Because Connor is not ready to face people while his tears are falling.

He lost his father and now a brother.